


Gifted

by saxgoddess25



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A/U, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxgoddess25/pseuds/saxgoddess25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life will always be complicated but for now Harry is living his dream as a professional quidditch star.  He suddenly starts receiving gifts but just who is sending them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a brand new work in progress. Right now the story is pretty much writing itself so updates may be fairly frequent. As a warning though, I have been known to take years to finish stories when my muses desert me for a bit. Proceed with caution. 
> 
> I decided the story is canon compliant up until the end of the regular part of Deathly Hallows, but is not at all epilogue compliant. From there on out it's A/U.
> 
> Also, Harry and Ginny have very complicated love lives, as you will see...
> 
> Now with added smut!

 “ _Potter!  Potter!  Potter!_ ”

Harry soared around the stadium, grinning wildly with the snitch clasped in a firm, yet gentle grip.  The match was finished but the snitch continued to struggle in a vain attempt to fly free.  A few moments passed and then, when the animated ball failed to break from Harry’s grasp, the golden wings’ rapid fluttering slowed until they were almost still.  The Seeker pumped his fist once more in triumph, basking in the roars from the crowd.  England was advancing to the semi-finals for the first time in years.

Once the victory lap was complete, Harry descended and at last his boots touched the ground. At least for a few seconds they did.  He’d no sooner swung off his broom than he was being swept up onto the shoulders of England’s two burly Beaters.  They carried him off to the changing rooms amid a swarming crowd of well wishers carrying banners and waving England flags.  Everyone wanted to shake Harry’s hand or to touch some part of him:  his leg, his boots, or the hem of his robes if that was all they could reach.

Finally the trio passed through the door to the changing room and McCarthy and Allen set him back down.  The three of them grinned at each other like little boys and McCarthy started jumping up and down.  “We won!  We won!  Did ya see the look on that Peruvian Seeker’s face when Potter came up with the snitch?”  At this point he slapped Harry so hard on the back that he had to take a step forward to keep from toppling over.  “He didn’t even know where the snitch was!”

“It didn’t hurt that you aimed a bludger right at his face as I made my move,” Harry chuckled.  “He was a little distracted by that.”

“Give yourself some credit kid,” Allan – an import from the States – always called Harry ‘kid’ even though he was only a couple years older himself, “you’re a far better Seeker and everyone knows it.”

“If you say so.”  Praise still made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable, even though he knew the words were true.  He _was_ better than the Peruvian Seeker and he’d just proved it out on the pitch.

McCarthy thumped him on the back again as the rest of the team and their coach filed in.  Everyone was in high spirits and they playfully jostled each other and talked at the top of their voices about the match until their coach – a spunky little witch named Libby who always reminded Harry of Madam Hooch – shooed them all off to the showers.

“All right you lot, there will be plenty of time to relive the match later.  Get changed so that we can get out of here and get to the drinking!”

Every member of the team laughed as they shrugged out of robes and grabbed towels out of their lockers.  The joke was that Libby never imbibed anything stronger than butterbeer.  Her father had been a drunkard.

The hot water cascading from the shower head was so soothing to Harry after the hard fought match that he lingered longer under it than he normally would have.  The rest of the team was already out and dressing by the time he joined them, which of course made him the subject of their good-natured ribbing.

“Oi, are you sure you had time for your complete beauty regimen, Potter?”

“Yeh, we can wait if ya wanna go back and exfoliate one more time.  Mebbe add some moisturizer?”

“Leave off, Jimmy,” a female voice called from the other side of the room, “yer just jealous because no girl in her right mind would date a hulk like you.”

Harry glanced over just in time to see Lauren, one of the Chasers, wink at him.  They’d become very close friends in the weeks since joining the national team together. It would be a sad day indeed when she went back to the Harpies and he back to the Cannons.  He grinned back.

“Tell that to yer mum,” Jimmy McCarthy shot right back.  The entire team groaned and chuckled at the same time. 

Lauren dialed up her accent to comic effect.   “ _My_ mum would tear you in half, she would.  Ya’d be cryin’ like a little babby before she was done wit’cha.”

“Well that’s not difficult,” the other female chaser, Alana Winterton, put in with a laugh.  “Making him cry, I mean.”  McCarthy pretended to scowl at her and she blew him a kiss.  Those two had actually been seeing each other for a year and if Harry was any judge, they’d be together for the rest of their lives.

The joking and taunting went on while everyone waited for Harry.  Libby came back to chivvy them along but when she found out they were just waiting for the Seeker, she tousled his wet hair fondly.  “Your girlfriend’s outside waiting for you, Potter.”

“Which one?” Lauren teased.

Harry had to laugh. “Well, since you’re already here, it’ll be Ginny, won’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  You might have added to the harem while I wasn’t looking,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him and picked up her bag.  “I’m going to go have a chin wag.  You know, tell her all the things you say about her behind her back.”

“And laugh at all the things she says about me, I’ll wager,” he gestured for her to go on.  “The rest of you lot can clear out too.  I’ll just be another minute.”

His teammates went, still chatting and laughing as they filed out of the room.  Libby was the last in line and she turned back toward Harry.  “I almost forgot, Potter…”

Harry looked up from tying his shoelaces just as she tossed a package to him.  He caught it with ease.  “Somebody left this for you with the security wizards outside.  I had Miss Weasley scan it to make sure there weren’t any hexes or curses on it.  She says it’s clean.”

He glanced at the wrapped package and then back to his coach.  “Err…cheers, Libby.”

“You’re welcome.  Now get to it.  We haven’t got all night!”

As soon as she was out the door, Harry turned the package over in his hands.  It was medium-sized and had some bulk to it, though it wasn’t exceedingly heavy.  A small, white card was attached with Spellotape.  Harry pulled it off and read:

                **_Harry,_**

**_I noticed that you’ve been having some problems with your grip.  These should help._ **

**_-An Admirer_ **

His grip?  Harry frowned.  Well, yes, he’d had a bit of trouble lately – not that it had inhibited his performance enough that someone would notice, or so he’d thought.  He turned the card over to see if it held any other clues as to who’d sent it, but the back was blank.  Very curious. 

Setting the note aside for the time being, he slipped his fingers under the wrapping and stripped it carefully away.  When he saw what was contained within, he could only stare in disbelief.  It was a pair of gloves the likes of which he had never seen before.  The backs were tough and glossy, probably fashioned out of dragon scales for their protective properties.  The fingers and palms were delicate, lamb or doe skin perhaps, for greater dexterity. 

Harry slipped a glove onto his left hand and gasped.  It was amazing!  There had to be magic at work because aside from the armor-like sturdiness covering the back of his hand down to the knuckles, he felt every sensation as though he wasn’t wearing gloves at all.  He flexed his hand a few times, still staring at it.

Who could have sent them?  Gloves like these would have cost a fortune.  Harry might have suspected his coach if he hadn’t known that Libby spent every knut she had to support her family.  His thoughts turned next to Draco but dismissed that notion almost immediately.  Draco would have wanted to make a show of such an opulent gift.  It couldn’t have been him.  Ginny likewise only got a passing thought.  Harry knew she would never have been able to afford them.  She also would have waited until they were home alone so that she could have seen the look on his face when he opened the package.        

The Seeker sighed and pushed the gloves gently into his bag before standing to leave.  He probably would never know who’d sent them.  The truth was that it could have been anyone.  Harry would just have to make certain that he put the gift to good use.

****

 

Lauren and Ginny were dancing on the bar amid the rowdy cat-calls of the quidditch team and most of the pub’s other male patrons.  The two girls were belting out their favourite _Weird Sisters_ tune and Ginny was playing air guitar as Lauren managed her imaginary microphone. 

“And we’ll riiiiiiiiiide…the wild draaaaaaagon!”

The chorus reverberated from the walls as everybody joined in.  Harry was laughing and trying not to spill his drink.  Their Keeper, Berkley, kept bumping him as he swayed back and forth.  Ginny looked down at Harry and winked before ending her air guitar – and the song – with a flourish.  The whole crowd cheered and a dozen hands helped her down from the bar.

When she and Lauren were safely on the ground once more, the two women embraced and gave each other a friendly kiss.  The kiss was turning more than just friendly when Harry leaned close and cleared his throat.  Ginny had the grace to look a little embarrassed as they broke apart.  She was usually more discreet than that but the firewhiskey had obviously gone to her head. 

“So,” Harry yelled over the din, “what do you ladies have planned for the rest of the night?”

“Lauren is going to crash at our place if that’s all right with you.”

“In your bedroom, I take it?”

Lauren grinned and snaked an arm around Ginny’s waist.  “You can join us if you like.”

“No, he’s probably going to go spend the night with that blonde knob that he’s so fond of.”  Ginny rolled her eyes but she was smiling.

“I don’t know.  He wasn’t even at the match today.”  Harry felt a stab of annoyance as he thought about that.

“Of course he was, Harry.”

“What?”

“Oh honestly.  You can spy a tiny golden ball moving faster than Pigwidgeon at full tilt but you can’t spot a Malfoy when he’s sat with all the other posh gits right where you’d expect him?  What kind of Seeker are you anyway?”

Harry felt the heat rising to his cheeks and tried to tell himself it was the alcohol.  So Draco _had_ been at the match after all?  He gulped the last of his drink and glanced around, wondering if he’d be missed if he slipped out now.  Lauren spotted his look and leaned forward.  “Go on then.  We’ll cover your retreat.”  She gave him a wink.  “Just remember that we have a team meeting at noon tomorrow.  If you’re late, Libby will get cranky and nobody wants a cranky Libby.  Got it?”

“I got it.  Thanks, Lauren, I owe you one.”

“Careful there.  I just might collect on that some day!”  She grinned and then made a shooing motion with her hand.  Harry leaned in to kiss her cheek and then gave Ginny a quick peck on the lips.  “See you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time.  Tell the poncy git that I say, ‘Hello.’”

Harry snorted.  “Just ‘Hello?’”

“Well, ‘Hello and I hope he gets kicked in the face by a Thestral.’”

“I’ll be sure to tell him.”  Grinning, Harry set his empty glass on the bar, waved at his two friends and snuck quickly from the pub.  The air outside was pleasantly cool after the heat of the packed room.  Harry walked for a few minutes along the road, enjoying the breeze off the nearby river.  Once he’d cooled down a bit, he apparated to Draco’s townhouse and knocked at the door.  A house elf answered.

“Oh, Harry Potter!  Come in.  I will let Master Draco know you are here.”

Before Harry could reply, the elf disapparated, leaving the wizard to shut the door behind himself.  At least Harry didn’t have to wait long.  He’d expected the elf to come back but instead his eyes fastened on Draco as he sauntered out into the hallway.

The blonde saw him standing there at the door and a lazy smirk settled on his full lips.  “Didn’t think I’d see you tonight, Potter.”  He paused a few feet away from Harry and leaned against the wall.  His posture was all feline grace and collected arrogance but Harry could read what lurked underneath.

“I didn’t see you at the match today.”

“Really?” Draco took a sip from the brandy snifter he cradled in his right hand.  “I must mean less to you than I thought if you didn’t notice that I was sitting in the top box.”

“I was a bit busy at the time. Ginny told me you were there.  Well after the fact, of course.”

“Oh yes?  And how is our favourite blood traitor?”

“She sends you her regards and said to tell you that she hopes you get kicked in the face by a Thestral.”  Harry thought the two of them took far too much pleasure in insulting each other.  Not that insulting Draco wasn’t fun, because it was.

“Please tell her, when next you see her, to watch her back.  Still lots of dark wizards out there that would like to get their hands on a pretty young auror like her.”

Harry felt his eyebrow threatening to climb into his hairline.  “I thought you weren’t involved in that anymore.”

“Oh, _I’m_ not,” Draco’s tone was dismissive but he toyed unconsciously with his glass, “but I do hear things.”

Harry took a step closer so that he could bury his fingers into the snowy white material of Draco’s shirt.  “You’d better only be _hearing_ and not _doing_ , Malfoy.”

“Or what, _Potter_?” Draco’s grey eyes held a challenge.

A growl rose in Harry’s throat and he pulled the other man into a punishing kiss.  He didn’t let go until Draco brought a hand to his chest and pushed him back a half a step.

“You’re…” Draco panted for breath, “you’re going to kiss me into submission?”

“If I have to!  I didn’t keep you out of Azkaban just to delay your inevitable return!”

“Relax, Harry,” Draco set his glass on the table by the door so that he could wrap his arms around Harry properly.  Harry loosened his grip on the other man’s shirt and looked into his eyes for a long minute.

“You were just winding me up, weren’t you?”

The blonde’s ever present smirk slid into a smile.  “It’s too easy.”  He leaned forward to press a lazy kiss on Harry’s lips.  “You really need to learn to not be so histrionic.”  Draco paused for only a second before correcting himself, “No, nevermind.  You’d be so boring without the dramatics.”

“I suppose you’d be boring too if you weren’t such an ass?”

“Oh, undoubtedly.”  Draco leaned in and started kissing his way over Harry’s neck.

“Not fair…” Harry mumbled.

“All’s fair in love and war, Potter.”

“Is this love…or war?”

“Yes.”

 

 


	2. The Second Gift

Harry woke in the morning to the sound of Draco snoring in his ear.  Normally he would have found this endearing, but right now - with a hangover threatening to pound his brain from his skull – it was torture.  He’d known better than to go to bed without first downing a glass of water but by the time Draco had finished with him, neither one of them had been very inclined to move.  Hell, he’d struggled to stay awake long enough to cast a cleaning charm.

A groan escaped from the dark-haired wizard as he rolled onto his back and peered up at the ceiling.  After a couple minutes the throbbing in his temples receded a tiny bit…until Draco rolled over as well and draped himself across Harry’s body.

“Geroff!” Harry muttered and shoved his way out of bed.  The blonde took one deep breath, nestled down in the warm spot and resumed his snoring.

Since he was up now anyway, Harry staggered off to the bathroom for a hot shower.  On a whim, he had a poke through Draco’s bathroom cabinet but there were no hangover cure potions to be found.  As he closed the door, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the washbasin.  Aside from the blood-shot eyes, he didn’t look nearly as bad as he felt.  Cupping his palm, he drank a few handfuls of cool water from the sink and then ducked into the shower.

The water was hotter than he’d intended but Harry forced himself to acclimate to it instead of adjusting the tap.  It didn’t take too long before his skin no longer felt like it was about to sear from his body and the heat began to soothe instead of scald.  He closed his eyes and tilted his head under the cascade, letting the jets of water massage his pounding skull.

“Ouch!  Bugger, Harry, this is hot!”

It seemed that Draco was awake.  Harry hadn’t heard him come in and the words startled him, but only for a moment.  He left his head under the water for a few seconds more and then finally turned, relaxing as he did.  The blonde was shying back away from the water and it was all Harry could do not to laugh.  “You’ll get used to it in a minute.”

“Why d’you have it turned up so far anyway?”

“Headache.  Too much drink last night so this feels really good right now.”

Harry watched as Draco eased forward.  “Turn it down a bit and I’ll do something for you that feels even better.”

“What’s that?” the Seeker asked with a skeptical look.  When Draco didn’t answer, Harry turned the knob slightly toward the cold side but only just enough to keep Draco from whining.  The blonde sighed in what must have been relief and murmured, “Turn around.”

“What are…?”

“Just turn around.”

Harry turned obediently toward the streaming water once more and Draco moved close behind him.  When the other man’s fingers slid through Harry’s hair and started massaging his scalp, the Seeker uttered a low moan and sighed in bliss.

“Better?”

“Gods, yes.”

Malfoy chuckled and continued to work his way over Harry’s head.  Harry relaxed under the gentle pressure and though his headache didn’t completely leave him, the throbbing in his temples vanished.  He felt like he might actually be able to survive until breakfast now. 

After several long minutes of the massage, he felt Draco begin kissing along the back of his neck.  That brought a grin to Harry’s lips.  “Is that supposed to help too?”

“Most definitely.”

The Seeker hummed.  “What with, exactly?”

“Blood flow?”

“So you’re trying to take the blood _away_ from my brain?”

“Seemed like a good idea.”  Draco shifted his hips and Harry could feel the other man’s arousal nudging against his buttock.  “You’re not using your brain anyway.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Draco laughed and took the opportunity to run one hand down the Seeker’s body.  It settled on Harry’s cock, which by now was showing definite signs of interest.  Harry let his weight rest back against his lover’s body as he pushed his hips up, seeking greater contact.  If Draco was going to seduce him in the shower, he might as well do all the work.

The blonde shifted a little to support the weight and reached to get some of his spicy-sweet smelling soap in his right hand.  Then it was back on Harry’s shaft, teasing and coaxing his manhood to life.  Harry hummed, enjoying the pleasant combination of warm water, physical contact and sexual arousal.  Malfoy was still kissing the Seeker’s neck and shoulder, his hips moving with tight, slow thrusts against Harry’s buttocks.  He muttered endearments as his passion grew and the pace of his thrusts started to quicken.  Both of his hands were occupied with Harry’s groin now, the one stroking Harry’s cock while the other gripped and played with his balls.

The Seeker groaned out his approval, especially when Draco gave him a tighter squeeze and a rough stroke.  A shiver ran the length of Harry’s spine to accompany the growing tightness in his bollocks.  Draco’s kisses turned to nips and bites as he got closer to his orgasm and his treatment of Harry’s bits turned more demanding.

At last there was a hitch in Draco’s breathing and Harry felt the other man shudder and twitch against him.  The strokes on his manhood faltered, leading Harry to drop his hand down atop the blonde’s so that he could stroke himself to completion. 

Draco nestled his chin against Harry’s shoulder, giving lazy kisses once more until Harry finally tumbled over the edge, mixing his fluids with the still flowing water.  Panting for breath, the Seeker was still for a minute or two.  Then he took a deep lungful of air and let it out slowly.  His head was throbbing again but it had definitely been worth it. 

“How do you feel now?”

“You brought my headache back.”

The blonde made a little noise that conveyed his dismay but Harry turned around and placed a kiss on his lips.  “It was still brilliant.”

“Maybe we should go back to bed.  I can give you another massage.”

“Can’t.  I’ve got a team meeting at noon.”  The noise that came out of Draco’s throat this time could best be classified as a whine.  Harry patted his arm.  “Sorry.”

“When do you think it will be over?  We could do late lunch or early supper.”

“I don’t know.  It’s the day after a match so Libby might keep us for hours.  I should check in on Gin too.”

“Well, when you do, be sure to tell her that I hope a boggart shows up in her closet and eats her favourite pair of shoes.”

“Boggarts eat shoes?  I thought they just scared people.”

“You’re concerned about whether a hypothetical boggart would hypothetically eat hypothetical shoes?”

“Oh _right_ ,” Harry said sarcastically, unable to rein it in, “because sending snarky little jabs at each other through me is so _reasonable_.  I swear I should lock the two of you in a room so that you can just shag already.”

“I’m not into girls.”

 _And I’m not into gits!_ Ginny would say.  Harry could hear her voice as though she was right there next to him.  “Well, just this once you should make an exception,” he told Draco, “It would be a boon to my sanity!”  Harry turned the water off with a little more force than he’d intended.

“A boon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“Of course I know what it means.  It’s a synonym for ‘favour.’”

“Oh.  You do know what it means.”

“Unlike members the Malfoy family, I don’t just go around _trying_ to sound like I have my head up my own arse.”

“Just comes naturally then, does it?”

Harry grunted and gave Draco a light shove.  “Fuck off, you prat!”

The blonde laughed .  “You love me.”

“God knows why.  You’re such an ass.”  Harry stepped out of the shower and grabbed a pair of towels off the warmer, throwing one rather forcefully at his lover’s face.  Draco caught it, still laughing.

“It’s because I’m amazing in bed.”

Harry grunted in a non-committal way, prompting Draco to walk over and catch him around the waist.  “You know I am.  Are you sure you can’t stay?”

“Definitely sure.  In fact, I think I’m going to try to catch Ginny before she leaves for work.  That means I’ll be skipping breakfast.” 

Draco pouted again and then sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll allow it… _if_ you’ll come to dinner.”

“Here?”

The blonde shook his head.  “I was thinking about the Dragon Lounge.  We could hit the clubs afterward.”

“Oh, all right.”

“Excellent!”  Harry found himself on the receiving end of an enthusiastic kiss.  “I’ll make the reservations.  Think your meeting will be over by eight?”

“I really hope so.”

“Eight it is then.”

After pecking the Seeker’s lips once more, Draco let him go and strolled over to the sink to go embark upon his morning rituals.  Harry snorted, amused as ever by his lover.  He lingered for a few seconds, appreciating the perfect curve of the blonde’s ass and then turned back into the bedroom to get dressed.

 

 

“Now, let’s get down to business!”  Libby clapped her hands brusquely and strode into the center of the circle in which the team members had arranged their chairs.  “Our next challenge is Latvia and we’ve only got a week to prepare.”

McCarthy chuckled and Libby shot him a dirty look.  “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you.  Latvia’s fielding a legitimate team this year.”

“Yeah, they beat Germany 350-60 in the last match,” said Lauren.  “Their keeper is really good.”

“So’s their seeker,” Harry murmured.  He’d seen Vilks play at a European League match the previous summer and good was an understatement.  Lauren reached over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll show her what a good seeker really is, Harry.”

“Too right he will!” Libby agreed with a smile for her seeker and then changed the topic back to strategy.  After perhaps a half hour worth of discussion, the team watched replays of their match with Peru.  Once that had been sufficiently dissected, they moved on to selected highlights from Latvia’s match with Germany.  The Latvians played very well as a team – almost seamless, Harry thought – but he did spot a few small weaknesses that the English team should be able to exploit.

By the time the meeting was over, it was clear that every member of the team was sober yet confident about the match ahead.  The next day they would all be back on the pitch, ready to work on some new moves, but until then they were free.  McCarthy and Allen had already arranged for the evening’s drinking to be conducted at a pub the next village over from the training center.  When they invited Harry along, he just shook his head.

“Sorry fellas, I’ve got plans.”

“Hot date, huh Kid?”  Allen said with a wink.

“Yeah, with me!”  Lauren insinuated herself into the conversation and wrapped her arm around Harry’s waist.  How did she always know when he needed saving?

The two Beaters laughed and then McCarty spoke up.  “Why am I not surprised?  Better watch out, Potter.  One of these days yer girlfriend is gonna get jealous.”

“Ginny, jealous of me?”  Lauren pretended to be innocent but she couldn’t keep up the act for more than a couple seconds.  “Not bloody likely.”

“Yeah, in case you hadn’t noticed, Jimmy, the three of them are pretty tight.  I don’t think jealousy has a leg to stand on there.”  Harry spotted a little smirk on Allen’s lips as he spoke.  He’d seen Ginny and Lauren kissing the night before.

“Ya never know with birds though.  One day everything’s fine and dandy and the next day yer out on the street with yer clothes in a pile beside you.  They’re mad, the lot of them.”

Lauren whacked McCarthy hard on the arm.  “Watch your mouth, Jimmy McCarthy or I’ll sic Alana on you.”

“Did I hear my name?”  Alana walked up and leaned against Jimmy’s side.

“Yes, because your bloke is a toad!”

“I know.  I keep kissing him in the hopes that he’ll become a prince but no such luck.”

All five of them laughed at that, even Jimmy – though his laugh was more of a chuckle.  “No reason why you two shouldn’t come along,” he persisted, “even if ya _are_ on a ‘date.’” 

“Ever think that we just don’t want to spend all our waking moments in your company, Jimmy?”

“Nah.  Why wouldn’t ya?”

Alana smacked Jimmy in the chest.  “Let’s go, you big lout.  The whole world does _not_ revolve around you!  Coming Greg?”

Allen nodded.  “Yeah, I’m coming.  See you guys tomorrow.”

“Have a good evening, Greg.  Try to keep Jim out of trouble for us.”

“Not gonna happen!”  McCarthy called out cheerfully and then winked as he led the other two from the room.  Harry just shook his head.

“He’s a character that one.  I don’t know how Alana puts up with him.”

Lauren’s gaze followed the trio as they left.  “Love is blind?”

“It sure is.  Speaking of which, I heard you and Ginny had a good night.”

“Oi, and just what are you trying to insinuate, Potter?”

“Nothing at all!”  Harry laughed again.

“Good, because if you were trying to say one of us was blind, I’d have to point out that _you_ choose to shag Draco Malfoy.”

“Touché!  Thanks for the save, by the way.”

“Well, what are harem girls for if not to spare their master from embarrassing questions about his love life?”

Harry nudged the Chaser with his shoulder.  “You’re just as bad as Jimmy sometimes.”

“You take that back, Harry Potter!”

“Okay…you’re _almost_ as bad.  Is that better?”

Lauren snorted and shook her head.  “You just watch out or I’m going to stop saving you.  I assume that it’s really Blondie you’re going out with tonight?”

“Yeah.  He wanted to go to dinner and we’ll go dancing at the muggle clubs after.”

“That sounds great!  You know, the four of us should go out sometime.”

“Wouldn’t _that_ be interesting? A love quadrangle.”

“The best part is; nobody would look at us twice unless we started in on public displays of affection.” 

“I think the toughest thing would be to keep Draco and Ginny from each other’s throats.”

“Yeah, that might be difficult.”

“Mmhmm,” Harry glanced at his watch.  It was early yet.  “I’ve got time to kill until I’m supposed to meet with Draco.  Want to go get a drink while I wait?”

“Now that’s a silly question.”  Lauren grabbed her bag and took Harry’s arm.  Just before they’d reached the door, Libby popped back into the room.

“Oh good, I was hoping you were still here.  Something else came for you, Harry.”

The coach handed him a package wrapped in simple brown paper and a bit of twine, this one much smaller than the last.  He frowned down at it.  _Another one?_   “Erm, thanks Libby.  Any idea who sent it this time?”

“Well, if you don’t know, I surely don’t.  There was an owl waiting outside with it.  Handsome wee beast too.”

“Huh.  Okay.  Thanks again.”  He pocketed the box, intending to open it when Libby wasn’t around.  Both women were watching him with open curiosity but he just shrugged.  “The life of a big quidditch star, you see.  People are always wanting to give me things.”

“Oh, I know!” Lauren replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “I, for instance, want to give you a swift kick in the arse for having such a fat head!”

“What?”

“Come along Mister ‘Big Quidditch Star.’”  Lauren grabbed his arm and all but dragged him out of the room.  She didn’t let him go until they reached the pub down the street.  Once they were ensconced in a corner booth with two pints of ale, Harry pulled the box out of his pocket and set it on the table.  They both stared at it for a few minutes and then Lauren nudged his leg with her foot.  “Go on, open it.  The curiosity is killing me.”

Harry picked up the box and unwrapped it slowly.  He felt some trepidation - especially as there was no note with this gift - but that really wasn’t a good reason to be afraid.  The last box had been fine and surely such a small package wouldn’t contain anything too dangerous.  After drawing a deep breath, he lifted the lid.  Inside, nestled on a bed of black silk, was a vial of shimmering golden liquid.  Harry knew it in an instant:  Felix Felicis. 

“Is that…?”

The seeker nodded as he picked up the vial and stared at it.  When he spoke, his voice was strangely hushed, “Liquid luck.”

They both stared at the bottle in much the same way as they’d stared at the unopened box.  There was no way that Harry could use it, of course.  Whoever had sent the gift _must_ know that.  What quidditch fan wouldn’t know that it was illegal?  He placed the vial gently back into the box and closed it up again.

“They must not think you’re _that_ good if they’re sending you things to help you cheat,” Lauren said at last, a trace of her normal humour seeping back into her tone.

Harry was still distracted with thoughts of who might have sent it so he only nodded his agreement and murmured, “Guess so.”

The first note had been critical of his grip and the gift meant to correct it.  The second gift insinuated that he needed artificial luck to be triumphant against Latvia.  Both were ostensibly to help him but could also be interpreted as a subtle insult.  It was something a Slytherin might do.  His first instinct was again Draco but if Malfoy was doing this, he was a far better actor than Harry would ever have given him credit for.

Could it be another of the Malfoys perhaps?  Lucius still hated him as much as he ever had and Narcissa was polite without being warm.  Neither of them seemed the sort to send Harry gifts, no matter what the intimation.  It was perplexing to say the least. 

Lauren was sipping her ale and watching Harry think.  Finally she broke the silence to ask, “What other gifts have you gotten, Harry?” 

“Just a pair of really fancy gloves.  I’ll show them to you tomorrow when we’re out on the pitch.  To tell the truth, I can’t wait to try them out.”  The chaser nodded and Harry thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask her opinion on the matter.  “I don’t’ suppose _you_ have any ideas on who might have sent them?”

“Your boyfriend?”

“He was my first suspect but I just don’t think it could be him.  Up ‘till now he’s not been very good at keeping things from me.  Even at Christmas I know when he’s bought my present.  He starts looking all smug and excited at the same time.”

“Hmm.  Well, he’s the only one I can think of.”

“Me too, sadly.”  Harry looked at his glass and sighed.  He hated mysteries.  It was one of the reasons he’d given up on the ministry and taken up quidditch again.

“Don’t fret, Harry.  I’m sure it’s just some fan who wants to see us win the cup.  Probably nothing ill-intentioned at all…as long as you don’t use that Felix at our match.”

“I won’t.  We don’t need it to beat Latvia.  We’ll wipe the pitch with them.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The seeker grinned and took a drink.   As he set his glass back on the table, his eyes fell again to the box.  He knew then that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he figured the mystery out.

 

Harry broached the subject of the gifts with Draco that evening.  Speaking in an off-hand manner, he hoped that the blonde would give something away without meaning to.  His lover seemed mildly interested – mostly in the rarity and value of the gifts – but that was the extent of his reaction.  In light of his observations, Harry remained convinced that the presents weren’t from the other man.

When next Harry suggested the gifts might be from one of Draco’s parents, the blonde had laughed loudly.  “My parents send gifts to you?  That’s a good one, Potter!  Very funny!”

That seemed the most appropriate place to end the conversation so the Seeker let it go.

The next morning, Harry skipped breakfast with Draco again so that he could drop into his flat and check in with Ginny.  When he walked into the kitchen she was reading the _Prophet_ with a slice of toast and marmalade in one hand.  She smiled up at him as he bent to place a kiss on her cheek.  “Hullo there stranger.  You didn’t party _all_ night, did you?”

“No,” Harry helped himself to coffee and a scone from the bread box, “we didn’t stay out late at all, to tell the truth.  Drake was super randy so we were back at his place by midnight.”

Ginny snorted and took a bite of her toast.  “I did _not_ need to know how randy Malfoy was last night, thanks.”

“Sorry.”  He wasn’t really, but it wasn’t worth harassing her too much at the moment either.  “What about you?  Did Lauren drop by to keep you company?”

“No.  I think she wanted a quiet night on her own.  Y’know, so she could have a bubble bath and a glass of wine.  De-stress.”

“That sounds like a lovely thing for you to have done together.”

“Well, it does for a fact, but everyone needs some solo time to recharge.  Lauren and I don’t have to spend every waking moment wrapped around each other…like another couple that I could mention.”

“Oi!  I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You are.  That’s true.”

“Thank you.  Besides, I just thought you might have wanted to take advantage of having the flat to yourself.”

“Don’t think that I didn’t take advantage of that.  I got a load of work done and I didn’t even have to put clothes on to do it.”

“You know…” Harry drawled, stroking his chin in faux thoughtfulness, “if you want to work without your clothes on more often, don’t let my presence stop you.”

“You perv.”

“I just want you to be comfortable is all,” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Uh huh.  You’re so very thoughtful.”

Harry grinned and took another drink of his coffee.  “Oh, and I got another gift from my ‘secret admirer’ yesterday.”

“Yeah?  What did they send this time?”

Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out the little box and opened it.  Then he set it on the table by Ginny’s newspaper.  She glanced down and surprise registered in her mild expression.  “Felix Felicis?  Why would they send that?  Everyone knows that’s illegal to use in any sort of competition, _especially_ Quidditch.”

“Yes, I know.  It doesn’t make much sense.”

“Unless the person that sent it wants you to be caught cheating and get drubbed off the team.”

“But I’d have to be stupid enough to use it for that to happen.”

“So it’s someone who doesn’t think you’re very smart.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t say that I agreed with them, did I?”

“No, I guess not,” Harry said grudgingly, “but I can’t see anyone believing I’m _that_ thick either.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Harry glared at her and Ginny coughed to hide a laugh before going on.  “Well then, if it’s not intended to get you barred from the tournament, maybe the sender wants you to be lucky in something else.”

“Like love?”

“I don’t think you need any help in that area, Harry.”

“You know that, and I know that.  Maybe they don’t know that.  It just seems strange that someone would send me a gift without some purpose in mind.  The gloves will be dead useful, after all.”

Ginny nodded and then lapsed into thought for a minute.  “Perhaps they sent the potion because it’s rare and they could afford to.  It’s something you’d be sure to take notice of.  A person with excess wealth to burn doesn’t always need a reason more compelling than that.”

“Yeah, that might be.”  Harry could think of quite a few things he’d rather have if folks were going to buy him gifts whose sole virtue was being expensive.

“I probably should have asked already, but what did the note on this package say?”

“There wasn’t a note.”

“Then how do you know that this is from the same person that sent you the gloves?”

“I don’t but it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Having two fans sending you gifts makes just as much sense – unless you think you’re only worthy of one fan.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

Ginny winked and finished off the toast.  “Knew you’d see it my way.”

“Then you really think it was from someone else?”

“I don’t know that for sure but it’s as likely as two gifts from a single person.”

“Yeah…I suppose”  Harry gazed at the potion, feeling somewhat annoyed that he knew less about its origins now that he’d talked to Ginny than he had before. 


End file.
